Read Crossing the Line Online

Authors: Annabelle Eaton

Crossing the Line (24 page)

“Sure,” I whisper hoarsely. How the hell
can I get out of this one? I lead them into the kitchen, and Mum immediately
spots the piano. She says nothing but I can tell she’s shocked.

Aden soon joins us in the kitchen along
with his parents. He cracks open wine for us and pours whiskey for himself,
Richard and my dad.

“My mum wants to decorate your place with
me,” I hiss as I get three wine glasses out of the cupboard.

Aden shrug. “Do whatever, within reason. I
want you to feel at home here but no pink.” I take a step back, shocked.
“Millie, I think I’ve made it clear that I want you to live with me. If adding
some things that you like will get you to move in, I’m all for it.”

I don’t quite know what to say to that. I
feel my heart swell, and I know if I can say anything about how much I love him
without crying. “As long as it’s not pink, huh?” I whisper.

He kisses my temple. “No pink.” That isn’t
a problem. Apart from a few cushions on the sofa and maybe a rug I wouldn’t
want to change anything. I love his minimalistic house.

“Okay,” I say in a daze. He really does
want me to live with him, wow.

“So have you planned a holiday together?”
Collette asks as we sit around the dining table. Okay, odd question. She’s
probably trying to figure out how serious we are so she can try to convince her
son to run.
Not happening, love!

I swallow my mouthful of wine. “No, not
yet. I’d love to go skiing, though.”

“I never knew you wanted to go skiing,
Amelie,” Mum says, frowning. “Why did you never say?”

Maybe because we can never have a civil conversation
that lasts longer than ten seconds. I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“We could have gone on many ski holidays.
Your father and I love skiing, but your brother and sisters have never been
keen.”

My mouth pops open audibly. “
You
can ski?” I try to force the alien
image of Mum on skis out of my head. Is she just making it up?

“Of course I can ski,” she replies as if
I’ve said something crazy. “Before Oliver was born your father and I would go
every three months or so.” Her mouth twitches and her face lights up. She looks
like she’s planning something? What? “We can go.”

If possible my mouth falls open further.
“Come again?” I mutter.

“We’ll go. We’ll have a mother and
daughter’s holiday. Won’t that be exciting?” No. “Let me know when you can get
a week off of work, and I’ll book somewhere.”

“She can have a week off whenever she
likes,” Aden pipes in. I glare at him out of the corner of my eye, and he
smiles, both proud and amused.
Oh it’ll
be hilarious when I rip your balls from your body.

“That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Aden.
How about next week, Amelie?”

Whoa,
whoa, whoa!
“Um.” I blink in shock. Is this
happening? I feel railroaded. “Don’t we have a lot on right now?” I ask Aden,
giving him a ‘say yes you arsehole’ look.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

I force a tight smile and Mum’s face lights
up. “Oh, I can hardly wait. I would love to spend some time with you alone.” I
almost fall off my chair. Really? She’s never wanted to spend time alone with
me. I don’t even think she likes spending time with me when there’s a room full
of people.

“Me too,” I reply, half meaning it.

Maybe it will be good for us, but maybe
only one of us will come back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

 
 

“I can’t believe I’m going on holiday with
my mum. Skiing too. My mum
skiing
.” I
shake my head as my mind literally refuses to conjure that image. A few days
ago if someone have told me I’d be going away with my mum I would have slapped
them over the head with spade and laughed in their face.

Aden turns in his chair. We’re in his
office going over a contract for the band he took me to meet at the run down
pub. “You’ll have a good time. Perhaps it’ll give you the chance to see your
mum isn’t that evil after all.”

“I’m not saying she sacrifices toddlers or
anything, just that she treats people that don’t have money like something on
the bottom of her shoe. I hate that.”

“I know you do. I hate it too.”

“And she wants me to be some trophy wife.”

He snorts. “You’re much too… interesting to
be a trophy wife.”

I narrow my eyes. Interesting means weird
or screwed in the head. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you have your own mind.” He almost
makes it sound like a question as if he’s trying to find the answer that’ll get
him in the least amount of trouble. There is no such answer, Ford! “I’m in the
doghouse, aren’t I?”

“Yes you are, but if you buy me Mexican for
dinner I’ll forgive you.”

He laughs. “Done. Now, can we please get
through this?”

“Sure,” I reply and turn my attention back
to the contract. “You have to deal with a lot of contracts.”

“Tell me about it,” he mutters. “But we’ve
had an influx of money since Dublin so I can afford to sign at the rate I
want.” He lowers his head and gets stuck in, biting his bottom lip.

I smile, but I can’t quite get fully into
it. My mind is stuck on the holiday with my mum. Aden has told me million times
that my mum is really not the heartless witch I think she is. We’ll see.

“Millie?” Aden’s voice pulls me out of my
internal thoughts. “Babe, we really need to do this.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Okay, where were we?”

In the end, Aden sends me to make coffee
because he needs caffeine hit and so do I. We’ve been going over the contract
all day and making little changes to send back to the band.

“Amelie, good afternoon,” Richard says,
rinsing his mug out at the sink.

I smile at Aden’s dad. We’re on good terms
since dinner at Aden’s when I didn’t make a huge scene and walk out. “Hello,
Richard.”

“My son’s got you making the coffee, huh?”

Isn’t that what women are to you? Coffee
bitches? “Yes, he’s busy.”

Richard nods. “Are you excited for your ski
trip?”

“I am. It’ll be nice to get away for a
while.” I am looking forward to it; skiing is something I’ve wanted to do
for a while, but I’m not sure how it’ll go being with Mum. I scowl internally.
I really do need to give her a chance. Maybe we can connect and find a way of
having a mother/daughter relationship.

“Yes, it’s always nice to have some
relaxation time. I’m thinking of going away soon too. Collette would like to
visit Thailand again so we’ll probably go there this year.”

“That sounds amazing.” I’m green with envy.
I’d love to go to Thailand. It’s gloriously hot there, although the women are
all beautiful so I’ll probably feel like a troll.

“It’s a beautiful country, Amelie. You
should get Aden to take you.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Anyway, I must get on. I’m sure you’re
busy too.” He nods his head as he leaves the kitchen, and I pop the coffee pods
in the machine.

I take our drinks back to Aden’s office and
sit down. “I’m almost done. Think you can sit beside me and look pretty while I
finish up?” he says, smirking.

I narrow my eyes and hold out his mug up.
“Think you can dodge this coffee before it burns your face?”

With a deep chuckle, he pulls my chair
closer. “I’m kidding. I actually need you to file these please.” He slaps his
hand on a stack of papers that weren’t on his desk when I left. He’s finding
random stuff for me to do so I won’t interrupt him. Hell if he wants peace I’m
more than happy to go back into my office and Internet shop.

Deciding to be a good PA for a bit –
even though taking orders from him makes me want to smash things – I
place his coffee on the coaster and grab the pile. “Sure.”

“Have your coffee with me first?”

“I thought you needed to get that done?” I
ask, nodding my head towards the contract.

He takes the filing from me and places it
back on the table. “I do, but I can spare a few minutes for my girlfriend. Sit
with me?” I can’t resist his pouty lip, and I stay. “I’ll miss you getting in
my way around here.”

“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “And I’ll
miss you bossing me around.”

“I am your boss.” I know. I have issues
with that, but I can deal.

For the rest of the day, Aden keeps me busy
with stupid little tasks that I know bore him. Still, it’s good to have
something to do.

 

Aden and I sit around his coffee table
eating Mexican food. “So are you going to miss me when I’m away?” I ask.

“You have no idea how much.”

My heart races. I’m going to miss him too,
like crazy. I’m so used to seeing him all day every day and most nights too.
“Good. No finding new PAs while I’m gone either.”

“No finding new bosses to drive up the wall
either.”

“Am I really that bad?”

He shakes his head and then nods. “High
maintenance doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I wouldn’t have you any other
way. You know that.” He has said that before but I don’t completely believe
him. Surely, he’d want an easier girlfriend? I don’t want him to be stressed
with me, but I’m not going to change who I am for anyone. Just like I’d never
expect him to change who he is.

“Good,” I reply. “Are you finished?” He
nods. “Good again. Bed. We’re spending a week apart, so I need it at least four
times before tomorrow morning.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re so
demanding.”

“You complaining?”

“Definitely not.” Aden jumps to his feet
up, picking me up with him and throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal in
surprise and slap his back. “Four times, hey.” Oh yeah.

 

I sigh when it’s time to say goodbye. Dad
gives Mum what looks like an awkward hug, but I know it’s only because they
aren’t really down with PDAs. I turn to Aden and pout. “Will you be here when I
get back?” I ask.

“Well I’ll probably leave and then come
back.”

“Hilarious,” I mutter dryly.

He laughs and wraps his arms around me. “Of
course I’ll be here. Have fun.” He kisses me briefly, and I’m left wanting
more. “Try not to kill your mum, and don’t let any other men near you. I love
you, Millie.”

“I love you too.”

“Come along, Amelie,” Mum says, effectively
ending my moment with Aden.

Mum and I make our way into the first class
lounge to wait for our flight, and even though I know Aden is still behind me I
don’t look back. If I do, I won’t be able to get on the plane. I already miss
him like crazy. Knowing I’m not going to see him again for another week makes
me feel nauseous.

Maybe I should move in with him? If I’m
missing him so much after a few minutes, then spending whole nights away from
him when I don’t have to is going to be horrible. At the minute, it’s not too
bad, but that’s because I’ve spent practically every night at his.

“Hopefully the flight won’t be delayed,”
Mum says.

“I’m sure it won’t be.”

We sit down, and she picks up a magazine.
“Well it better not be.”

 

Our flight isn’t delayed, but that doesn’t
stop Mum complaining that it’s taking so long. She’s the one that insisted we
arrive earlier than what we need to. She is utterly ridiculous. It hits me like
a fat kid on the Atkins diet. Perhaps I am like Mum. We’re both stubborn when
it comes to what we think.
Oh God.

I walk like a zombie as we board the plane.
Me and Mum being alike. No, I’m just being stupid. Plenty of people are
stubborn. It’s not like we’re the only ones with that trait. We’re
different. Very, very different.

“Champagne, Amelie?” Mum asks, waving her
hand for a flight attendant. She might as well have just clicked her damn
fingers and shouted, ‘You. Peasant. Come.’

“Sure,” I mutter, looking out of the window
so no one will see how embarrassed I am. Why can’t she just smile when someone
looks her way or say excuse me to get their attention? “That’d be great.”
Alcohol is definitely the answer when dealing with Elizabeth Cohen.

The plane ride is smooth. It’s nice
not to crash out of the sky and plummet to my death. We’re only about another
ten to fifteen minutes from landing and Mum has just ordered our sixth glass of
champagne. My head is light, and I’m feeling pretty damn happy.

“Mum,” I whisper and giggle because I
actually have nothing to say.

She smiles, amused. “What, Amelie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I help you, Mrs Cohen?” the flight
attendant, who now knows us by name, asks.

“I ordered two more glasses of champagne.”

She smiles. “Yes, my colleague is just
opening a new bottle. It will be with you in one minute.”

“Oh good,” Mum says and turns to me. She
has been doing that a lot after the third glass, looking at me and smiling. I
always thought a dark witch froze her face in a frown but apparently she
smiles. Perhaps her sour face was just for me, pre Aden.

“If we drink too much more, we’ll stumble
off the plane.”

“Oh, Amelie, we’re on holiday. We can
stumble wherever we please.” Okay, she’s redeemed herself a little there. I
make a mental note to keep my phone in my pocket so I can film the stumbling,
though that isn’t something I’d ever be able to forget if it happens.

 

Thankfully we aren’t wrecked when we get off
the plane and make it to the gorgeous hotel built into one of the gorgeous
Italian mountains without incident. Everything is built from stone and looks
like a place you want to be staying in. Inside is traditional and warm. A
blazing fire in the bar beside reception lights the room with an orange glow.

“Mum,” I hiss. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes it does. I requested a view of the
mountains.”

“We’re in the middle of the mountains.
There is no other view!”

“I didn’t pay for the view we have. Those
mountains, if you can call them that, are not what I want to see when I look
out of the window.”

I throw my arms up in defeat. Christ she is
ridiculous. The hotel is set into one of the mountains, and because our room is
facing down our view is of mountains below us. Which, apparently, isn’t good
enough for my mother.

“I’m going to call Aden and tell him we’ve
arrived.” I want no part of her pathetic whining anymore.

Aden answers on the first ring. “Eager,” I
say. “Or desperate.”

“I miss you too,” he mutters sarcastically.

“She’s driving me crazy already. Our room
isn’t good enough because it’s looking down the mountain and not across. This
was a bad idea. The poor receptionist looks like she’s about to cry. Come and
get me!” I demand.

He laughs, and I wanted to kick him in the
shin. “Millie, chill. Ignore it and try and have a good time. When are you
skiing?”

“Never. Come and get me.”

“You’re being silly.”

I can practically see his grin, and it
makes me smile. “Fine. But if I end up shoving her off a cliff, it’s your
fault.”

“Try not to murder your mum, babe. I’ve got
to go. I’m meeting the guys at the pub.”

I sigh. “And so it starts.”

“Yes, because I plan on picking up a couple
girls,”

“Hmm, that’s nice for you. Just remember
I’m the one on holiday with all the hot Italian men. Bye, baby,” I say sweetly
and hung up. Ha!

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